


Within Death Itself

by harveydent



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harveydent/pseuds/harveydent
Summary: “I have met plenty of men who don’t fear death.” Oswald pretended to go back to his paperwork. This had the desired effect as the green figure appeared in front of the desk and placed its long arms on either side of Oswald. It leaned forward until their faces were a foot away from each other.“What do they fear instead?”Oswald leaned ever closer.“What do they fear over you?” Oswald chuckled. “Why me of course.”





	Within Death Itself

It was not unheard of in Gotham for someone to disappear, only to be found in an alley weeks later by an officer searching for loose change. The general populi seemed to be fodder for the city, keeping it afloat. 

 

But one seemed immune, and even seemed able to harness the power that Death had. 

 

Oswald Cobblepot. The name struck fear through the hearts of criminals, police officers, and politicians alike. The man seemed to thrive anywhere, leaving a trail of bodies as a form of signature. One could always tell where the crime lord had been, just follow the screaming police cruisers with flashing lights.

 

The man’s pride and joy was the Iceberg Lounge. An impossibly posh building located within the diamond district. Anyone who claimed to be anyone frequently spent evenings there. The cool atmosphere helped men keep their drinks at an ideal temperature, while serving the dual purpose of letting women show off their fancy furs without overheating. Others enjoyed the excellent hors d'oeuvres. 

 

The locals seemed to have a fixation on the Gotham rogues and they loved to try and brush shoulders with the owner. But Oswald had no interest in entertaining the fantasies of strangers, no matter how much money they spent at his bar. So he had a room hidden behind a penguin statuette which he retired to often. 

 

Tonight was no different. Oswald was sitting in his office talking to his chief of security, Victor Zsasz. No one knew how to avoid being killed like the best assassin in Gotham. But its not like Oswald was truly concerned. He knew he had an advantage most didn’t, or even didn’t know about. 

 

Zsasz left after a fifteen minute conversation about patrols and possibly investing in some bulletproof glass windows. The Joker had been around too much and it was never a bad idea to take extra care with that one.

 

The door had scarcely shut before an impossibly tall hooded figure stepped out from within the shadows behind the crime lord’s ornate chair. The being loomed over the man, who didn’t look up. 

 

“I was wondering when you’d come bother me again.” Oswald remarked dryly, continuing his paperwork. 

 

“After all I do for you, and you still say these things to me?” A deep, gravelly voice echoed across the empty room. While the figure’s face was shadowed by the hood it wore, there was a hint of a pout in the voice. “You wound me.”

 

After a few moments silence, the dark being seemed to glide across the floor and stop in front of the large window overlooking the skyline. It’s shadow cast a thin shape across the office.

 

“Funny beings, humans.” The head turned. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Penguin?”

 

The scratching of the pen stopped. The office was dead silent. Oswald had made sure to soundproof it after the lounge had installed its new sound system. 

 

“I’m almost flattered that you don’t consider me one of them.” He remarked. Despite himself he felt a familiar warmth settle in his chest.

 

The being slowly turned to fully face the crime lord. “I’m almost insulted that you think I would be this interested in a human.”

 

“Ah,” Oswald said smugly. He limped over towards the dark figure. “So you admit that you’re interested in me?”

 

The room was silent, which Oswald took for confirmation. Usually his strange guest would act aloof for a few minutes and then once it got onto a topic it would be impossible to get a word in edge wise. Satisfied, the man stood by the window as well. 

 

While the figure looked down hungrily at the people lining up in the streets, Oswald stared up at the city proper. Beautiful.

 

“It seems rude that you know my name, but I don’t have anything to call you by.” 

 

The figure glanced over, or Oswald assumed he did. The darkness within the hood was almost otherworldly with how much it obscured. “I gave you my moniker when I first revealed myself to you.”

 

Oswald snorted. “I’m not calling you that. And you’ve never ‘revealed’ yourself to me either. As far as I know you’re a walking coat hanger with a bedsheet thrown over it.”

 

The room grew colder suddenly, but Oswald remained unimpressed. Perhaps he should hire the being to help chill his lounge. It would save him thousands.

 

“I go by the Riddler, and you will address me as such.”

 

Oswald didn’t look over, but he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A single black gloved finger slid up his left arm and he jumped. A soft whisper came behind him. “And my true form would drive you mad.”

 

He swallowed thickly. “Then choose another one. You look like one of Jonathan’s goons.”

 

A chuckle. “I don’t think I look like a scarecrow. I was more going for… grim reaper.”

 

It was obvious that a compliment was expected, but Oswald always had a thing against enabling that kind of behavior. So instead he crossed his arms. 

 

The figure let out a sigh and then reached up for its hood. It pulled back and Oswald’s eyebrows rose. Before him was what could almost be interpreted as a man. His pale skin was pulled taut across distractingly sharp cheek bones, and his eyes shone out of deep sockets. Dark brown hair was slicked backwards and the being reached up to make sure it was all in place. The human had to remind himself that this being was  _not_ of his kind.

 

Oswald recoiled as the figure threw off the rest of the cloak, revealing an almost insultingly green suit. It reflected the street lights with a ghostly shimmer. His boots were black with a gold stripe highlighting the heel’s incline. The being was already tall and Oswald doubted the need for shoes to emphasize it more. 

 

There were a couple beats of silence before the being huffed and crossed its arms. “I create a glamour just for you and you have nothing to say?”

 

“So Death is a narcissist? You learn something new every day.” Oswald limped back to his chair before collapsing into it. He started massaging his leg, which had started aching from standing on it too long. His cane lay inside the limo which was parked around the back of the lounge. 

 

The room grew very cold once more and Death feigned indifference. But Oswald had spent enough time with the creature to know it was offended.

 

“But of course.” It seemed to examine its fingers. Long, piano players' fingers. Oswald couldn’t take his eyes off of them. “I am the most powerful force on earth.”

 

Oswald snorted, looking away. “One would think.”

 

“Do you not agree? That the fear of me rules over all?” The being wasn’t trying to hide its displeasure any more. It glared at the shorter man and took a few steps closer to the large ornate desk he was seated at. 

 

“I have met plenty of men who don’t fear death.” Oswald pretended to go back to his paperwork. This had the desired effect as the green figure appeared in front of the desk and placed its long arms on either side of Oswald. It leaned forward until their faces were a foot away from each other. 

 

“What do they fear instead?”

 

Oswald leaned ever closer. 

 

He took a mental image of Death’s face. It’s eyebrows were pinched together and the pale lips were pulled tight, which made the already sharp cheekbones seem borderline gaunt. Oswald was sure that if he walked over to the Dictionary on his shelf and searched up ‘frustration’ that an image of the face before him would be there. 

 

“What do they fear over you?” Oswald chuckled. “Why me of course.”

 

And suddenly Death’s lips were crushed against his. He was everywhere, his scent overpowering. Sandalwood with a smokey undertone. 

 

It was a battle for dominance. Both seemed intent on taking control of the other, but it seemed neither were submitting. A violent war was being waged with tongues, teeth, and lips. And they were taking no prisoners.

 

Oswald considered himself lucky that he’d been a smoker in his teenage years, when he’d been trying to fit in with the other petty criminals. If he hadn’t had that conformist phase he would’ve been overwhelmed with how the creature kissing him tasted. Like smoke. 

 

But this didn’t deter the man. In fact it almost spurned him forward. He grasped at the being's clothes, pulling it towards him. 

 

The desk’s contents were pushed to the floor as Death crawled across towards Oswald, their mouths never separating. The glamour Death had chosen was lanky, and it didn’t seem completely in control of its limbs. One of its legs got caught on the corner of the desk and it fell onto the human. 

 

Oswald was oblivious to this struggle because his eyes had been closed. He ran his hands through his partner’s hair and was surprised by how soft it felt. 

 

Death righted itself and decided to straddle Oswald's lap instead of kneeling over him. They both moaned at the contact and Death started grinding against the hardness in Oswald’s pants. 

 

“Are you usually this enthusiastic with every human you favor?” Oswald panted, raking his hands down the back of the figure currently on top of him.

 

A breathy laugh. “No. You’re the only one.”

 

Oswald groaned, the thought of being the only one to have this powerful creature was sending heat straight to where the being was giving it’s attention. The only one. 

 

He leaned forward and licked up Death’s neck, who was gritting its teeth. It almost looked like the being was in pain, but Oswald knew that it could and would make a huge fuss if it was uncomfortable. It just seemed like something the annoying creature would do. 

 

And from the noises it was making, Oswald was sure that Death was enjoying itself thoroughly.

 

He spent a good couple minutes sucking and biting the pulse point underneath Death’s jaw. Oswald was unaware if the glamour would transmit such things to his genuine form, but for now he was content seeing a small bruise form on the being. A mark, just for him. Tonight, he owned Death.

 

The office was getting very warm and Oswald broke off the kiss. Death whined but was silenced as Oswald started stripping as much as he could with a man-shaped being sitting on his lap. 

 

The other seemed to get the hint as it started stripping off its gaudy green garments. Oswald was not sad to see them go. Every glimpse of Death’s pale skin had him straining for more.

 

Soon they were just in their pants, their bare chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. 

 

“It’s pretty hot in here.” Death whispered, running its hands down Oswald’s stomach. It leaned down and licked one of his dusky nipples, which caused the smaller man to shudder.

 

“Then do your thing.” 

 

“My thing?” Death smirked. It licked the other nipple.

 

“Your air conditioning thing. Make the room cooler.” Oswald ground out, scraping his nails down the creature’s back, causing it to moan through gritted teeth. More marks to brand the creature.

 

“Oh that,” Death stretched in a way that reminded Oswald of a feline. It’s expression was extremely pleased. “I can only do that when I’m upset.”

 

It leaned over and kissed Oswald senseless, until the man beneath it was gasping as if he’d just run a marathon. Death licked his earlobe before whispering softly, “And you haven’t upset me. As a matter of fact, I’m quite content.”

 

Oswald frowned. “Content isn’t really what I’m going for.”

 

He spit in his hand, pulled open the being’s pants and finally grasped it. Death practically screeched before thrusting forward and biting Oswald’s shoulder. This put its ear right next to his mouth so he leaned over and whispered. “I want to see you _wrecked._ ”

 

A muffled almost-sob from his shoulder as Oswald continued to caress it. He planned on finishing the being before someone walked in on them. The knob on the door showed that it wasn’t locked.

 

Death must’ve noticed his distraction because it chuckled, lifting up its head to stare into Oswald’s eyes. “Exhilarating, isn’t it? Anyone could walk in at any second.”

 

“You don’t have to work every day with whoever walked in.” Oswald ground out. Death had _finally_ opened his pants and was matching him stroke for stroke. 

 

“I could always kill them, you know.” It wasn’t a question, and the concept of killing someone seemed to cause the being to glow slightly. 

 

“Do you know how hard it is to find good help?” 

 

“You’re no fun.”

 

Oswald didn’t know what he’d done in his life to find himself in a sexual situation with the literal god of death who was now pouting because he wouldn’t let him kill anyone. His mother was probably furious, glaring down at him from heaven.

 

A breathy groan in his ear reminded him that he had a very (alive?) active participant on his lap and to stop thinking about his dead mother. 

 

Searching through the desk drawer immediately next to them, Oswald dug out a small bottle of lube he kept around for whenever Zsasz was free after a job. 

 

At the sight of the bottle, Death purred excitedly. It reached forward and snatched it from his hands. 

 

The being got up and Oswald made a disgruntled noise but was silenced by the image of Death taking off its pants. No underwear. A funny strangled groan left Oswald’s throat before he could stop it. 

 

The being smirked before leaning over the desk and spreading its legs, presenting itself. 

 

If the room was hot before, Oswald thought he was about to combust. The thought that if the creature could lower the temperature, it could most definitely raise it as well passed through his mind as he stood up behind it. 

 

Death angled one of its legs in a strange way but Oswald realized it was to help stabilize _his_ leg. The position looked slightly uncomfortable but he trusted the creature to know how to pleasure itself. 

 

Oswald squeezed some of the lube onto his right hand and then generously onto the being in front of him. It shivered as the cold liquid spread over it's bare cheeks. 

 

He rubbed Death’s back comfortingly before circling the hole in front of him with his index finger. The being seemed impatient so it swiftly backed into Oswald’s hand, pushing his digit inside. 

 

The creature moaned, its muscles on its back rippling in a mesmerizing fashion. It seemed that the glamour might be slipping slightly as the being was becoming… distracted. 

 

Based on how enthusiastic the response was, Oswald added more fingers as he stretched the being wider. 

 

Death’s fingers quickly turned into long claws as it raked its fingers down the desk. Oswald would have to order a new one in the morning, the grooves deep enough to lose pens in. 

 

“Hurry the fuck up.” Death ground out, its muscles clenching against Oswald’s fingers. He groaned at the sensation. 

 

“What if I like you like this?” The human flexed his fingers to emphasize their situation and the being below him writhed impatiently. 

 

“Oswald I swear if you don’t stick your dick in me right now I’ll kill you.”

 

The threat didn’t land the way it was intended. Oswald started laughing huskily, almost ceasing all movement as he leaned against the creature’s back. “You can’t kill me.”

 

Oswald was pushed off suddenly as Death spun around to face him. 

 

“Can’t?” Its voice was deep, all posturing and flamboyance. The figure seemed offended and Oswald grabbed behind its neck to pull it in close, inches from his lips.

 

“Perhaps the better word was won’t. You won’t kill me.” He leaned forward, capturing the creatures lips. He bit its lip and used the being’s gasp to slip his tongue inside its mouth. 

 

Death’s ego was bruised and Oswald used his mouth to placate it. His tongue massaged the other’s, calming it down. But it proved ineffective as the creature pulled away. 

 

“You sound confident, Mr. Penguin.” It grabbed Oswald’s waist, sliding him closer to the desk and wrapped its long legs around his waist. “I’ve killed men for less than doubting me.”

 

“So you would kill me?” 

 

Death pulled Oswald’s head down to whisper in his ear. “Only if you don’t fuck me. Right. Now.”

 

There didn’t seem to be an appropriate verbal response, so Oswald instead lined himself up with the creature below and pressed inside. He hissed through gritted teeth, the sensation of being completely sheathed sent rivers of energy up and down his spine.

 

Death gripped his upper arms tightly, almost guaranteeing bruises in the morning. It craned upwards, capturing the man’s lips. 

 

It seemed that their natural state was arguing through their mouths. Oswald matched his hip’s pace to the creature’s tongue’s movement. 

 

The room was filled with the sound of skin and breathy moans muffled by mouths. If anyone walked in Oswald would shoot them where they stood, his revolver hidden below the creaking desk.

 

Oswald pulled his head up, opting to focus on holding his oncoming climax off until after the being below him came. Based on how red the glamour’s face was getting and the claws appearing, he assumed it was close. 

 

He leaned over and grabbed Death’s cock, pumping it swiftly. The creature screeched and grabbed at the desk below it, splintering the wood. 

 

The being came suddenly, coating both of them with it’s sticky spend. Oswald let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve held off his own orgasm. 

 

As he teetered over his own climax, Death captured his mouth in one final, frantic kiss. It bit Oswald’s lip and he came instantly. Moaning into Death’s open mouth, he pumped three more times as he filled the being.

 

The office was suddenly quiet, except for both partners’ panting and the light rain that had started outside. The streetlights had turned on, casting long orange shadows across the purple carpet. 

 

A couple of lazy kisses later, Oswald pulled out carefully.

 

 Death hissed before summoning a handkerchief out of thin air. It cleaned itself off and then leaned over to clean off it’s spent partner. 

 

Oswald had collapsed into the office chair and was currently massaging his leg. Putting so much strain on it was never a good idea, but this seemed like a compelling reason. 

 

“Well that was-“ The crime lord cut himself off, distracted by Death’s smirk as it cleaned it’s stomach off. 

 

“Amazing? Life changing? Better than life?” Somehow the creature was more insufferable naked than in that obnoxious green suit. It was currently leaning against the _demolished_ desk with one hand on its hip. 

 

Oswald rolled his eyes. “Are you always going to be like this?”

 

“Depends.” Death leaned over, resting his arms on the man’s knees. “Are you expecting me back again, Mr. Penguin?”

 

Oswald leaned back, appreciating watching the tall man bent over him. “It doesn’t matter what I want, you always seem to show up again.”

 

“Death is an inevitability.” The creature leaned even further forward, almost sneaking towards Oswald’s lips. It seemed Death had vices of its own. 

 

He wasn’t opposed. He would be here for the being, whenever it returned. Their partnership had brought him from petty umbrella boy to King of Gotham. Oswald supposed letting the creature hang around was the least he could do. But tonight changed things. 

 

Many had joked about Oswald being an angel of death, but most didn’t know how close they were. Of course he was just a human, but he had made a deal with the devil. 

 

“We are an inevitability.” Death whispered, and Oswald pulled him forward. 

 

As their lips crashed together, a train derailed across town, crashing into the station. 43 deaths. But they would live, at least for a couple more hours. 

 

For once, Death was busy elsewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> oof a lil' spicy fic.  
> I started this as a 'fairy tale' entry for 2019's nygmob week but school happened so I couldn't post it in time. Then I just realized it was gonna be nasty and went from there.  
> thanks for reading .....;)


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